


Saturdays

by spreadward



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4458869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spreadward/pseuds/spreadward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Saturday morning and Fuhrer Mustang wakes up and thinks about his life with his husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturdays

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review if you enjoyed it! It feeds me and keeps me writing when I know people enjoy my work. Constructive Criticism is welcome as well.

Saturday is Roy Mustang's favorite day of the week. Its the one day he is able to sleep in as late as he wants, without worry of the nation falling to pieces under his feet, and sleeping in certainly has its perks. Right now, his favorite perk is sleeping beside him. 

Edward is lying on his side, his back to Roy and his hair down, knotted from rolling in his sleep, but still looking as soft as ever. His metal arm is above the covers, which Ed has only pulled up to his bellybutton, and is lax against smaller frame. 

He's wearing one of Roy's oversized tank tops. The kind that he buys for when he's doing hard work outside, to keep cool, and it's strap is sliding down Ed's metal arm, dangerously close to getting caught up in the metal. Ed has torn many of his shirts this way, but Roy doesn't mind, because when Ed is wearing just one of his shirts and boxers it fills him with a warm, pleasant happiness that he's never felt before. 

Ed isn't the easiest person to live with, or to love like Roy does. He's brash, loud, careless and untidy. Sometimes he drives Roy absolutely crazy but at the end of the day there is no one else he wants to share a bed with. 

Edward has this habit of coming in the front door and kicking his muddy boots off like a child, and leaving them wherever they lie. Filth seems to follow him everywhere. Roy can't count how many hours he's spent cleaning up dried mud and dust that Edward had tracked into his home. 

Its not uncommon for him to trip over a pair of pants that Edward has shucked off his legs and neglected to place in the proper laundry receptacle. More than once he's found balled up socks stuffed between the couch cushions and shoved between various nooks and crannies. 

Roy had once made a point of not looking for Ed's socks to wash, and after they’d all gone missing Edward had just moved on to Roy’s, which had provoked a rather steamed argument that Roy would rather not think about, thank you, and had left Roy in the position of hunting the house for lonely socks once a week. 

Ed’s stomach is bottomless. Roy had assumed that once Ed settled down his appetite would as well, since he’d no longer have to worry about where his next meal came from. He’d been wrong. If anything, Ed ate more than ever, and used the excuse that he had to fuel his automail, which Roy knew was bullshit, but didn’t have the heart to call him out on it. 

There are some days he doesn’t see much of Ed at all, days where Ed locks himself in the library with a new book or project from work. Sometimes its translation of old, dusty tomes found in the middle of the desert and sometimes its the odd Xingese characters that Roy can’t believe Ed can understand. Sometimes it’s a new transmutation circle he’s trying to develop for one thing or another. Roy is always more than happy to test them for him. 

Roy both loves and dreads public functions where Edward is expected to attend; especially those that are for society’s elite. Edward, on his own, would not normally be considered for any high class event, but because of his special position as Roy’s husband, his appearance was always expected, and it was seen as a slight if he didn’t attend without a good reason. There were many occasions that Roy knew that Edward had been uncomfortable at functions like this, and he’d always tries to make it up to him, especially when Ed knows that he’s only being formally invited to entertain people with his less than polite behavior. 

At the same time, he loves the time he gets to spend with Edward on his arm. And he loves the looks they get together, all of them, even the envious and disapproval. 

It was common for Roy to find smears of grease and automail oil on his towels and bedsheets, no matter how often he complained about it. Edward insists that it isn’t his fault, and Roy believes him, even though the stains irk him to high heaven. After three years though, he’s become very fond of the scent of metal and oil. It smells like Edward. 

Edward only has two volumes: loud and absolutely silent. There is no in between. His voice is loud, his footsteps are loud, and even his studying is loud, as he’s prone to throwing things around when working. Roy’s taken to getting rather nervous when he can’t hear Edward in the house. Silence means Edward is either gone, ill or so upset that he can’t function. Roy hates seeing Edward like that, and has vowed to do all he can to keep it from happening. 

He gets less sleep than he did before Edward moved in, but he doesn’t mind it. When Edward starts thrashing from his nightmares, Roy is always there to hold him, and he always stays awake with him. He never mentions the tears, or the sobs, or the few times that it’s gotten bad enough to make him vomit. The same way Ed gives him the same courtesy for his own nightmares. 

Even though Edward is brash and impulsive, Roy can’t imagine a life without him. His nights would be cold and lonely, his days monotonous and empty. Reflecting on his life with Edward always makes him smile. He feels like the luckiest man in the universe. 

His attention is brought back to Edward, who shifts slightly in his sleep, and it makes Roy smile widely. Beautiful. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. He’s about to reach out to him and pull him close when Edward moves again, rolls onto his back faster than a sleeping man should be able to, his automail arm flinging back right and slamming right against Roy’s face. 

He sees stars, and Edward wakes up from the sound it makes. 

“Shit! Roy! You’re bleeding! Were you fuckin’ staring at me again!?” 

Roy’s hands are clenched around his nose as Ed jumps out of bed, running to fetch a towel. This isn’t the first time this has happened. It won’t be the last. Even though it hurts like hell, and another blood stain is added to his pillow, he can’t regret it. Edward is tending to him, fretting like a mother hen about how his face is going to bruise again, and even though there is blood streaming from his nose, he can’t help but smile.


End file.
